


Nightmares

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: 5+1, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But I like some good Tony whump, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, If Steve comforts him, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Slash, Pre-Slash, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Team, Steeb WILL hurt you if you hurt his Tiny, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, TONY THINKS OUTLOUD, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric, Ugh I really love Tony okay, protective author, so. much.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-09-28 13:43:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20426930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tony knew a lot about himself. He has flashbacks. He has nightmares. He also has a group of misfit superhero friends. He likes the blond one the most. He shouldn't get too attached to the blond one. He was finding it hard when he would he comforted by said blond one after nightmares.~Or, 5 times Tony had nightmares and 1 time he had a dream-turned-reality.





	1. Football

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sabrecmc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabrecmc/gifts).

> Hello! this is my first fic, and un-beta'd. all mistakes are mine, but nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!!

> **1.**

_A pulled string inside his frail body was all it took – in between the heat, sweat, noise, and flurry of movement, the initial tug of muscle held inside his left leg wasn’t all that hard to miss. His white Yankees t-shirt was already mauled, the edges of the rugged cut coated in the unmistakable brown of dried blood. Hair matted with sweat was pushed back repeatedly by earnest hands with calloused fingers. A minuscule gash above his torso exposed some of his olive skin, but amongst the other rowdy boys, he’d brushed it off so as to not seem weak in their eyes. He’d gone and made them think he was stubbornly arrogant instead. There was no pleasing the neighborhood boys, was there?_

_As the blazing sun seeped warmth deep into his skin, the dotted orange ball was hauled from him at the last second. Suppressing a tired groan, he ran to the other side of the scorching field to catch up with a particularly burly boy leering at him._

_That’s when it happened._

_He barely stifled a shriek as he crumpled to the burning ground, gripping his left leg. Scrunching his face, he only just came to realize how long it had been since water graced his parched throat. A few of the kids seemed worried, while the others made fun of him, calling him a wuss and a crybaby._

_Crybaby? Oh. His mind caught up with his body and he suddenly felt the tears streak down his cheeks. As sweat and tears mingled on his face, the cruel sun managed to induce a throbbing headache and a ringing in his ears. A pained sigh escaped his lips as a boy hollered across the road to call – who? He couldn’t remember as black spots danced in his vision and his eyes blurred. He was hearing too much out of one ear and too little from the other. It was all he could do to not just scream at the top of his lungs. But the neighborhood boys – they don’t scream. But would they really judge him right now?_

_No; he was a Stark, and Starks don’t scream. Daddy would be upset again and throw glass at mommy. He wouldn’t be the reason behind another shattered crystal. Adamantly denying the urge to cry, the last thing he remembered was the familiar scent of his Aunt Peg and her warm arms lifting him up._

**\-------------**

‘Tony? _Tony!_ Wake up. What’s going on?’

An urgent voice pierced through his ears as he braced for a hospital-bed view of his worried Aunt and a gaunt figure readily swirling vodka in a glass. But that voice – it didn’t belong to that scene. Reluctantly, he tore open his eyes and regretted it immediately. He was abruptly greeted by the bright sun showering rays of golden inside the room. The curtains were open. He never opens his curtains. And was that a sofa he tumbled out of? Confused and dazed, he took in his surroundings. A worried blonde lump of muscle was kneeling in front of him, accompanied by a red-haired woman adorn in her usual sleek tightsuit of black leather. Squinting at the sudden light that hit his eyes, he realized both Steve and Natasha had bared their steel daggers. Maybe they translated his screams to something else.

Huh. His whole body was shaking. Even though he very well knew this was the present, flashes of broken glasses and spilt alcohol sped through his mind. The whip-crack noise of his fathers – no, _Howard’s_ – hand against any exposed part of his skin echoed inside his ears. _Think about numerical coefficients. Unknown variables. Dum-e’s new upgrade. Letters. Numbers. It’s not real. He’s not alive._

Before he realized what was happening, Tony was curling in on himself and backing away, whispering silent pleads. He loosely registered the thump of the sofa behind his head. He vaguely felt all his limbs go static inside – the tremors rippling through his body was out of his control. A warm hand reached out as a feminine voice whispered, ‘теперь ты в порядке.’ He flinched at the sudden contact, snarling out a desperate, ‘_No more, father. Please.’ _The hand stiffened in between the entangled locks of his rumpled hair. He closed his eyes again, fear taking over his senses – oh no. He'd resisted. Dad would hit him again. ‘_No he won’t’, _a small voice he vaguely connected to the warm and loving tone of his Aunt Peg pressed on reassuringly in the back of his mind.

He swallowed thickly, trying to get a grip on himself. Steve and Natasha were watching. He was always cool and composed around them – wouldn’t they make fun of him like those boys if they found out? He didn’t want to know. Blinking back the stream of tears threatening to come out, he adjusted his bleary vision.

Starks don’t cry.

Tony cleared his throat, twinging at the roughness inside, ‘Yeah, uh. ‘m okay. ‘m fine.’ Murmuring more incoherencies, he started mapping out another sleepless day inside his lab as he tried to inch out of the communal living room, where he’d passed out last night after finishing the latest upgrades on Clint’s arrows.

‘Tony.’

He froze. There was warmth in the voice – he wasn’t used to getting that from anyone except Aunt Peg and his mom. He can’t fall for that. He’s been called like that before, from people that weren’t those two. From people who only wanted his money and weapons. They were just going to throw them away, right? He put on the best paparazzi-smile he could muster and turned around, resolutely deciding to put down any panic-attack-related claim they made and any sign of trying to soothe him. He’s been through the routine before. He’ll just throw more money at them, that’ll shut them up.

His resolve crumbled and his smile faltered when his eyes fell on the puppy-dog face Steve was making. It faded completely when he realized Natasha – the same Natasha who laced her knife around his throat for stealing a fruit loop from her breakfast – had actual emotion bracing her face. Was that – _was that worry?_

He mentally scolded himself. Why would they worry about the spoilt rich boy having nightmares? He steeled his eyes, opening his lips. However, his curt retort to their silent question was never uttered, because Steve had now encased Tony in what could only be classified as a bear hug. Resisting the urge to smile, Tony acquiesced. Nothing less to expect from the big ball of muscle and emotion. However, what took him by surprise was when Natasha quietly crept behind him and soothingly wrapped her arms around his back, rubbing circles on him through his shirt. Okay, he was _not _going to cry. Starks don’t cry.

Oh, so his body betrayed him. Multiple times. He was now burying his face into the comforting crook of his teammate’s neck. And sniffling. He slowly pulled away – there were no walls between them now. He was too tired of the endless routine. Even if they were just putting up an act, he could take advantage of that, right? Pepper always told him he wouldn’t have to constantly put up new walls if he just _talked. _That is, talked about anything except meaningless quips or innuendos, or the occasional beckon for a mug of coffee. But if he wasn’t locked away in his lab, Howard would call him a lazy ragdoll. But when did Howard ever compliment him for his work or smarts anyway?

Tony was tired, and damn it if he wasn’t going to nuzzle into the inviting arms of Steve and let Natasha massage his feet as the words of explanation and glimpses of his past tumbled out rapidly. It was pent up for so long, Tony had to inhale ever so often so as to not choke on his own hurried stream of recalls, as though he might not be able to say it anymore if he stopped and rested.

But they listened. They were quiet, gentle, and _they listened._

Not even twenty minutes had gone by when Clint arrived, mid-recount of the time Howard had locked up Tony in his room with the lights turned off and made several specks of blood splatter across his tiled floor. Tony was starting to space out, shivering strenuously. Clint had crawled from the vents, where he had been observing up till now, and had lifted Tony’s torso to sit under him. The three other Avengers were now sitting comfortably in the communal sofa, patiently letting Tony spill everything until his voice went hoarse. (They made Jarvis give him a glass of water and told him it would be okay to continue when his voice _did _go hoarse).

Thor and Bruce were on a mission, but Steve damn well knew they would have been here for Tony too. After all, he gave them a home, a family, and ears that listened. He always sat there with rapt eyes and soothing fingers over theirs while he listened to all of them vent about things they’d been hurting over.

Everyone had their demons.

Tony’s were the only ones that they were yet to uncover. Steve wondered honestly how slow they were on the uptake. The frazzled eyes and blown pupils. The shaking fingers that reached for his mug of coffee in the morning, threatening to spill. The reddened lips and puffed cheeks. He had always assumed he was recovering from another drunken tryst.

Tony and he had had a _very_ rocky start, but they were good friends now. The Avengers were a lot of things, and a tightly-knit group was one of them. How had he always dismissed the look of fear that sometimes glazed over Tony’s eyes before he’d build up another wall? How did he forget the fidgeting? The nervous crack in his voice when journalists brought up Howard or Afghanistan? The hunched figure he’d always see glimpses of, leaned against the kitchen counter, when he went out on his morning jog? Steve had been a victim of PTSD after being brought out from the ice. How did he, of all people, miss the signs?

He sighed, leaning in and resting his cheek on Tony’s hair. Clint and Natasha shared a knowing look that prompted a warm, red hue to creep up Steve’s neck. He was _not _whipped, whatever Sam said. So what if the others agreed and teased him endlessly? Doesn’t mean it’s true.

The two assassins crept out, Natasha dropping a sincere smile before exiting the room. Steve didn’t stop them. He didn’t mind being alone with Tony. And no, that was _not _a nice warm tingly thing inside his stomach. It was just breakfast.

A comfortable silence hung over them as Tony took a breath and ended his story. Steve still held him, cradling the other man gently – as though he was a piece of fragile glass that might just break with a firm touch.

Tony was never the type to allow manhandling (he was a grown-ass man, thank you very much), but just this once...it...felt different. Decidedly not putting a name to the new feeling, he thought about letting his walls down for a little longer - maybe become more genuine._ Steve_ was the most genuine person he’d met, if the way he was softly carding his hands through Tony’s hair and the way he cuddled into their hold was anything to go by. Sighing contentedly, Tony settled in, purposefully ignoring the jump in his heart every time Steve traced Tony's arc reactor or - well - came into form of contact with him.

Oh, he was _beyond _screwed.


	2. Afghanistan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second time Tony has a nightmare and the team is there, it's not Howard.  
It's Afghanistan.  
TW: NON-CON. (Rape inside the cave in the flashback)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! this right here is the second installment of my 5+1 fic! Keep in mind this is my first AO3 fic, so I may not be an experienced writer here. Still hope you enjoy, please leave a kudos if you like it!

> **2.**

_The echo of metal chinking against each other rang loud in his ears. His eyes stung just a little more than usual after the thirty fourth hour of no sleep, but it was nothing he can’t deal with. Even with the loud sounds the drill in his hands made as he whirred it to life with coarse fingers, his mind could only repeat the sentences that had burned him not mere hours ago. He clenched the machine harder, willing the water brimming around his eyes to not come out. He shouldn’t be a baby. Pep and Rhodey were looking for him, right?_

_ ‘You already have so much blood on your hands, Stark. Why not try to make the shitty dad of yours whine in hell one more time by makin’ one more bomb?’_

_He ran his free hand through the greasy nest on top of his head, cursing under his breath. This was not the time to be clumsy. He picked up a screwdriver, pausing to brush off some ash that made its way onto his bloodied shoulder blades. Instead of removing the muck, he managed to begrime it even more. Sighing in defeat, Tony focused on the half-finished mass lying in front of him. He could feel his limbs growing slower as his sleep-ridden mind decelerated. No no no. Focu-_

_He screeched as a bulky hand yanked him by his messy hair, pulling him back towards the door. He murmured no’s and please’s, trying to resist the arm dragging him to his doom. He was thrown to the floor, a sickening crunch underneath telling him his ribcage had finally given away. A gruff voice growled in front of his blurry vision, ‘Alrigh’, punk. You seem to be getting’ sleepy, eh? I bet this’ll wake you up.’_

_‘Stop.’_

_A hand slithered down to his belt and turned him onto his back, pressing him deeper onto the stone floor. Wincing, he braced for the pain as the man shrugged down to his boxers, undressing a continually struggling Tony. He was too tired to stop him. He couldn’t move as the man traced a finger along his length, whispering quietly, ‘Well, I always heard of your reputation in bed. Don’t disappoint me, Stark.’ He couldn’t move as the man spit on him, chuckling. He couldn’t move as the tears slowly made their way out, something he promised himself against._

_Tony whimpered protests as the blood slid down his legs, covering him in pain and things he would rather not think of. The ache spread throughout his body, wracking him with throbbing agony. The man grunted, smiling evilly. Tony willed his eyes shut, thinking of anything, anything, that would distract him from the state he was in._

_It would be over soon._

_Right?_

\------

Tony had drifted off during the post-mission briefing after taking down Loki for the sixth time (and that wasn’t an exaggeration. The mischievous snake never grew tired of messing with Midgardians). In the corner of the room, Thor had left Loki tied up, chest placed under Mjolnir. Apparently, the magic hammer would stop his ‘brother’s futile methods to escape the Avengers’ internment.’ After the third time, the others had resolved to let Thor handle keeping him here.

The thunder god in question was brooding in a chair, absentmindedly spinning it. Natasha had been amused, seeming to think that his demeanor resembled that of a disappointed parent. Fury had gathered them in a conference room inside the Helicarrier, deeming it fit to pick them up and give them a lecture instead of letting them go on the Quinjet. Them being everyone except Clint, whose vanilla-sweet act towards Agent Coulson had cajoled him into special treatment. He was flying the Quinjet back to Avengers Tower, enjoying alone time.

Fury had started to furiously approach the slumped figure of Tony when Steve jabbed a hand in front of his path to stop him. Fury’s surprised tone was comical to Natasha, who stifled a laugh and passed it off as a cough (because Natasha’s that good. Yes she is, the others weren’t just ignoring the giggle in order to avoid a knife to the chest. Although she would totally stab them if they showed any hint of amusement to the slip of character).

_ ‘Did Steve motherfucking Rogers just stop me and fix me a glare?’ _

Natasha and Bruce whipped their heads to Steve to confirm, and sure enough, a glower was present in his eyes. They smiled – of course Steve was _that_ smitten for Tony. Why else would he protest to his higher-up when he was the most well-mannered ninety seven year old they knew? The blond responded, ‘He’s tired. Do _not_ try to wake him up.’

Fury, to everyone’s great surprise, smiled. Yeah, Mad-Eye Moody (title courtesy of Tony) smiled, ‘Next thing I know, Tony’s gonna make you tell me to stuff your shield up my ass.’ Steve blushed at the remark, deciding not to reply, and brought his hand back. However, he was fully upright and standing in front of Tony when Fury tried to approach the slumbering man once again.

‘He’s havin’ a nightmare. If you wake him up suddenly, he’s gonna get a panic attack.’ His Brooklyn accent had seeped into his speech, conforming to his seriousness. And if he’d brought his chair a foot closer to Tony’s and draped a gentle but protective arm around the engineer’s trembling shoulders, no one said anything to it. Except knowing smiles on the Avengers that seemed to speak louder than words, making Steve indignant. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of a gripe. He was just going to bring himself closer to Tony in an act of defiance – yes, it was just defiance. He was _not_ protective or worried by the sudden shudders Tony had ever-so-often.

A few more minutes of the briefing had gone by when Tony’s eyes snapped open and he tumbled to the floor, the sheer look of fear flickering over his face. Steve was strongly reminded of the event that transpired a week before. He knew it would take Tony some time to adjust to reality, so he knelt down and started to stroke up and down his back, uttering words of comfort beside his ear. The others were already approaching Tony, Thor and Bruce slightly more flabbergasted than their red-headed teammate. They had been brought up to speed on what had happened in the living room, but seeing their beloved Tony break down in front of them was different.

Okay. Deep breaths. In and out. His therapist told him to do that – it would come in good use now. Tony was in a gray-walled office. Oh shit. Gray walls. Wasn’t that Howard’s office? Wait, wasn’t he in Afghanistan mere seconds ago? In a flurry of movement, he hoisted himself against the table and tried to look around, ignoring the throbbing that pierced his head and made it feel like he was a coconut being cracked in half. Tony’s pants were on. Okay, okay, good.

In and out.

He didn’t feel the pain down his legs. He felt warm hands around him. A golden fleck was dancing in his vision, a spark of warm familiarity calming him ever-so-slightly. Steve was here. Steve was with him. If Steve was here, he was okay.

In and out.

If he was consciously registering what went on in his mind, he would’ve scoffed at the pathetically blind trust he put inside the man. Scratch that, he was doing that now too. However, his mind, his body and his speech were nowhere near coherent sync, and everything was at different times and places at once. It was too much for Tony. He didn’t feel his lips move or his throat work when the mumbles of, _‘Stop touching my body. It hurts. I’m not going to slow down anymore. I won’t sleep. Please.’_ was uttered.

In and out.

Both Steve and Tony were surprised when they heard what he said, and Steve had retracted his hand, as though his skin burned him. Steve looked regretful as Tony’s surprise was taken as incredulity. His breathing almost hitched to a worried halt when Tony muttered, just above a pained whisper, _‘Let me out of this cave. Let. Me. Out. Forcing your dick in me won’t change the fact that you’re going to hell, and I’m not going to let you drag me down with you.’_

Tony thrashed up, about to land his curled fist into blank space, when Steve realized just where this particular memory was coming from. He could feel anger bubble up inside him - those people didn’t rape him there...right? Tony never mentioned anything like that. Then again, he never mentioned Afghanistan. Natasha and Bruce seemed to have understood as well, horror replacing worry. Fury had been rooted to the spot at the head of their table, not moving his eyes away from Tony.

In and out.

Steve hesitantly rubbed the back of Tony’s neck the way his momma would whenever he was hyperventilating. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he continued when he felt Tony quieten and relax faintly. The others had crouched in front of Tony. Thor had realized what was going on; he wasn’t as thick as Midgardians made him out to be. Tony had seemed to finally come to his senses, his breath coming to a steadier pace. His forehead was matted with sweat that Bruce wiped away with his napkin. Steve looked at Fury, eyes steely and formidable. A speaker in the room announced their arrival, and Steve picked Tony up. In his muscular arms, the small figure of their genius looked like a tiny lump in crumpled clothes. Steve promptly told Fury they would be taking their leave as the other Avengers flanked him. Thor grabbed his hammer, not worried Loki would escape. His brother could go annoy Odin, he needed to focus on the black-haired engineer cooped up in Steve’s hold.

Amidst their leave, Tony’s eyes had fluttered shut once again. But in the protection of Steve’s grip, he was calmly wandering off to a dreamless slumber.

Sometime after they came home, Tony had woken up and dazedly reached his hands out for coffee. They had silently complied with his request, which shook Tony to his core. Did he do something embarrassing in his sleep? Wait - why was he back at the tower? Was the briefing done already? How’d he ended up in the communal sofa again? He felt like he’d been asking a lot of questions after waking up these last few days. The blank inside himself was beginning to annoy him, so Tony settled for audibly asking them what happened. What was meant to be an eloquent question came out as an intelligently groggy, ‘Hmmfuh?’

Clint and Bruce looked at him inquiringly while Natasha translated, ‘He’s asking us what happened.’ They softly nodded. Was that pity? No...he’d seen pity before. It wasn’t a warm emotion in the eyes, and this look was strangely comforting. He was about to ask again when something inside the blanket-cocoon beside him stirred. Tony jumped from the sofa, almost spilling coffee on himself. He cursed; what the hell was shuffling inside his couch?

A head of caramel popped up from the wool. Sleepy eyes propped themselves awake, and _by god wasn’t that the cutest-and-somehow-simultaneously-hottest thing Tony had ever laid eyes on._ Despite still being befuddled, Tony appreciated the sight in front of him as a bulky, muscular figure emerged from the bundle. He didn’t bother to stop the tongue darting out to instinctively wet his worryingly dry lips when Steve looked at him.

The man instantly lit up like a Christmas tree, making Tony’s heart do a complicated stutter. _What the hell was that?_

Steve positively beamed, brightly saying in a scratchy voice that made something other than Tony’s stomach-butterflies rise up, ‘Tony! You’re awake! You’re okay! You're-you’re awake and you’re smiling and you’re okay,’ Steve pulled him into a bone crushing hug, ‘Thank-fucking-goodness.’

Tony’s skin colored at the affection - hold your fire, _Tony Stark does not blush_. His voice, muffled from Steve’s shoulder, rang out in an attempt to calm himself down, ‘Easy there, capsicle. Did you just fucking _cuss_? Did the apple-pie boy Scout of America, the personification of virtue, the epitome of p-’

‘Yes, Tony. I _fucking_ cuss. And I’m not a naïveté either; I still dunno why you all assume that. I grew up in _Brooklyn_, for fuck’s sake.’ Steve did not know why Tony was doubled over in a fit of laughter, coffee mug forgotten in the small table. He was, however, beyond elated that Tony was laughing. Tony was happy, so he was too.


	3. Waterboarding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAH! I've finished the third chapter, sorry I didn't update yesterday! Hope this makes up for it :D

> _ **3.** _

After they had all settled down in the Rec room, ready to start their promised-to-Steve Star Wars binge, Tony decided this would be the best time to strike – no one would expect it now. He’d carefully dropped the subject in the afternoon when he’d woken up in the living room, and Tony had observed them the entire day. Why were they so relieved when Tony didn’t bring up his question? Everyone had visibly relaxed their tensed shoulders and clenched jaws. Everyone except Steve. When Tony moved his ever-analyzing gaze over to Steve, the numbers continuously running in his head sped up. Steve’s perfect bow-lips were fixed in a pout, his blue eyes were distant – Tony could almost see the cogs working in the blond’s head. Steve looked like he was fighting an internal battle, but Tony didn’t ask right then. He needed to catch them off guard if they wanted a good answer. And the evening, when they were all most relaxed, and cozy-d up with blankets and bowls of popcorn, was the perfect time.

_ Well_, Tony thought to himself, _time to get my answer._

‘Hey guys, I have a question for you. Somethin’ fun.’ everyone looked at him, expecting a Darth-Vader-related-or-so question, ‘yeah, what in the ever loving god of fucks happened in the Helicarrier?’ Tony mentally patted his shoulder – the others were successfully caught on the hop. He bored his chocolate browns into everyone’s eyes in that way he knew made them squirm; he’d been using it since he was an adolescent college kid who wanted to sleep with the new jock from the class over, and he could confidently say he used it multiple times since then to pry out everyone’s darkest secrets.

Natasha was the first to break the trepid silence, ‘You fell asleep. That’s all. Fury was angry, and we stormed out because you need your rest, even if it was in a debriefing. Steve carried you to the sofa.’ The others half-heartedly murmured in agreement, shifting in their seats. Tony knew they were lying. They had to be. And if he was “sleeping” (as they claim), would Clint, of all people, simply fidget with his blade and look longingly at the remote instead of calling the engineer their very own Sleeping Beauty? Certainly not. Tony was starting to get annoyed, and was about to ask again in an irater tone when Steve cut him to it, ‘Guys, don’t keep it from him. If it was you, you’d want to know too.’

Tony smiled, satisfied, and gave Steve a winning smile and an appreciative bump to the shoulder. He’d crafted a quip about them being cursed by Ursula to be mute in order to get their prince Eric when he looked at Steve’s face. Okay, he probably never so his captain so serious apart from the time he woke up from the last nightmare about Afghanistan.

Wait, wasn’t Steve there that time in the living room? _That wasn't Afghanistan._ Tony’s face immediately transitioned into a grim expression, lips drawn in an emotionless line. It was coming back to him. Pushing himself into a table, flinching from Steve, whispering pleads and punching the air. He remembered. Bruce started in that calm voice of his, ‘Tony, look, we don’t think less of you, remember that, okay? You fell asleep, like Natasha said, and you-’

Tony raised a hand to silence him, although it seemed like he was warding them off. Bruce scrunched his face, about to continue despite the hand, and was cut off again. Tony’s voice, quiet but piercing, made Steve’s heart shrivel, ‘So you guys-you guys know?’ To see the normally yammering billionaire-slash-Avenger-slash-shrewd-smartass try to curl into the corner of the sofa and be rendered into a quiet and guilty face was certainly new. Why did Tony look guilty? Steve may be from the 40s, but he didn’t expect the modern people from this time to be so utterly baffling.

He wanted nothing more than to punch a tree – or pull Tony in his arms and never let go, but he had a feeling crushed trees and flagrant hugs weren’t the solution here. Steve picked his next words carefully, something his blunt self never thought he’d find himself doing (hey, he was treading on careful waters here), ‘Tony, I-we love you. We really do. And if I could, I’d punch the asshat that-that did it to you into oblivion.’ The others tried for a small smile at Steve’s much-too-obvious slip up, but they were looking at Tony too anxiously to do that.

Steve ploughed on, ‘Tony, you need to realize that there was no reason to keep it from us. What you went through – it doesn’t make you weaker. _My fuck_, Tony, it makes you so much stronger. Stronger than any of us. And having to deal with the aftershocks alone…I-I honestly can’t think how it must have been all those nights, alone. I had my fair share of nightmares after being brought out of the ice, but I had all of my teammates – no – my _family_ to help me. I still remember the night you were up and ate two gallons of ice cream with me after you found me in the middle of a panic attack.’ He paused, a reminiscent smile on his face, and spotted one on Tony’s tear-blotched one. Encouraged, he went on, ‘You could have told us Tony. We could have helped you through it. We still can.’

Steve put down the bowl of popcorn from his lap, and pulled Tony closer. Wrapping his warm arms around Tony, he leaned the brunette’s face into his chest. Tony complied thankfully, moving his own hands to clutch at Steve’s hoodie as though it was the only thing rooting him to existence. Muffled by the cloth, Tony silently let the tears fall and murmured through wracking sobs, ‘It was so hard, Steve. _So hard._ I-I’m sorry.’

Steve all but hugged Tony closer, mumbling, ‘There’s nothing you need to be sorry about.’

They stayed like that for who-knows-how-many hours, in each other’s silent yet comforting company. A few hours later though, when the team had peacefully drifted off, Tony extracted himself from the entangled limbs carefully and padded out in his socks, subconsciously bringing his bottom lip inside his mouth, absentmindedly biting it the way he always did when in deep thought. He needed to be alone, preferably in his safe haven. He needed to go to his lab.

\---------

_ He was trapped. A rough hand plunged him deeper into the splashing water. His nose was stinging unbearably. His eyes were sore. The gurgling feeling hadn’t left his mouth since the last hour, and he could feel his oxygen running out quicker by the second._

_ He didn’t know how long it went on. He felt as though an invisible hand was reaching into his lungs and choking him. Strangled protests drowned out by the continuous bubblin_ _g water rising up to plummet deeper into his tired mouth were uttered, ignored by the gleeful men holding him against the seemingly bottomless drum. The roots of his hair were coated with droplets of murky water. Every time his head was pulled out of the water he inhaled the cold air gratefully before his short-lived victory was forced into the tub again. His vision was all but blurred, and the bile rising up was washed out by the continuously mounting rushes of water. He was helpless. He was alone._

_He was trapped._

\--------

Tony woke up feeling like someone was holding his head underwater, and he was gasping, his hands scrabbling at his throat to release the pressure, to free his lungs from being filled with emptiness. He sat up straight, a strangled scream in his throat, and suddenly he's back there again. _Drowning._ Alone. Terrified. He could still feel the fear prickling under his skin, mercilessly edging its way into the very fabric of his being. He was shaking, his whole body wracked with pain that coursed through him. Aching sobs tore out of his mouth before he could catch them, and the room filled with the sound of him gasping for breath.

He aimlessly flailed his hands, looking for someone – _anyone_. Despite his desperation, the wistful image that swam into his mind was that of a blonde head and never-ending pools of blue. It was of a red, white and blue paragon and a perfect smile. Steve.

He choked back his tears when he realized where he was and – and the last place he slept; he tried to pry it out of his mind for fear that it would leave him wanting something he could never have. He was sitting in the workbench in his lab, the blue luminescence of the arc reactor illuminating just about a few inches of the cold darkness that he’d swallowed himself in. Just hours ago he was curled up in the man he’d fallen for, and here he was now.

Alone.

And it was his fault – his fear of being left had pushed him too much, and he’d made a mistake that would probably leave both of them confused. Hopefully, Steve wasn’t too pissed off.

‘I’m not.’

The familiarity of the voice registered too slowly in his sleep-muddled head and he instinctively jumped up from his icy bench, taking a defensive stance. His left hand had subconsciously trailed up to wrap around the cold metal of the glowing bulb in the center of his chest. When he saw the familiar figure of Steve, he visibly relaxed, a relieved sigh escaping his lips.

And then he stiffened. Did Steve just read his mind? _How was Steve reading-_

‘Tony. You do realize you’ve been talking aloud for the past few minutes, right?’

He was?

‘Yes.’

‘Shit.’ This time, thankfully, he felt his lips moving. Good.

Steve looked way too amused. More than he should be – for a guy who just witnessed a confession of his undying love, that is.

‘Undying, huh?’

‘How do you keep doing that?’

The blond chuckled, taking long strides to cross the lab. He leant up against Tony, effectively pinning him with both the arms that snaked it’s way around him and pushed him into the desk. Was that a boner Tony just made? Steve thrusted his hips against Tony’s, drawing out a moan from the engineer.

He said in a pleased voice, ‘I’d say so.’

And yeah, it was hard to believe that he was waking up from an aching nightmare a few minutes ago, but stranger things have happened to him.

Tony was red to the roots of his hair by now – from arousal and embarrassment. He huffed, resolutely avoiding Steve’s penetrating gaze. ‘Tony. Look at me.’ Tony could feel his resolve crumbling by the second, but he didn’t need a slow, sincere rejection and a kind voice saying they’d be better off friends. Because that’s what Steve always did. He was always considerate of-of _feelings_ (Tony mentally winced at the word). No, Tony just wanted a harsh denial to get it over with, because it’s best to just rip the Band-Aid off, right?

‘Tony,’ there was an exasperated fondness in the voice that came from in front of him. Steve really found it in himself to be able to still say his name after seeing him in his lowest? Steve really must be one of the greatest-

‘Tony! I’m not rejecting you. And I’ve seen you lower, by the way. Do you really think I’d just fling you aside?’

Damn his loud thoughts.

‘Don’t _damn_ them, Tony; they’re helping me understand you. At least your sleepiness is paying off here. Now, answer my question. Why would I do that? You really think that less of me?’

Tony mumbled a sheepish reply, averting his eyes to look at his fidgeting shoes.

‘What?’

Toy repeated, louder, ‘I-I thought you’d want…you know…sex. It’s happened to me before, you know. No need to delicately sprinkle sugar on the blow. After I told Ty I loved him, he had sex with me and called it off. I thought-’

Steve cut him off. Now, Tony was expecting a rough kiss and a hand that would strip him to be what cut him off; he said he was okay with it. Instead, a warm hug wrapped itself around Tony. Steve clasped tighter, mumbling into Tony’s hair, ‘You idiot of a man.’

‘Now, see, I’m actually in the top 1 percentile in-’

‘I don’t care,’ Steve pulled away, putting both hands on Tony’s face so the latter didn’t look away (as he was ever-so prone to do), his intense stare sincere and loving, ‘Tony. I. Love. You. Y'know the love with those mushy soft things I feel and the butterflies and how you reyes look and everything.’

Tony snorted, ‘That was cheesy. Cheesy and cute.’

A delicious tone of red dusted itself across Steve’s cheeks as he replied, indignant, ‘Contrary to popular belief, I’m not always good at speeches. And my blush isn’t _delicious_.’

Tony hummed, ‘Y’know, pumpkin, you keep proving the media wrong. Swearing like a sailor, not being a Dumbledore with speeches, swinging the other way…not exactly the paragon of virtue, huh?’

‘I’ll show you other ways I can prove the media wrong. Later. Now, however, you need some breakfast in you.’

Tony quirked up at the mention of perhaps being fucked into a wall, but breakfast had his eyes widening, ‘_It’s morning?_’

‘Tony! I’m not going to fuck you into a wall.’

_‘How am I still thinking loudly?!’_


	4. Howard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! so Stony is now established, but more angsty nightmares and fluffy supersoldiers coming your way!!! It's a bit shorter than usual, but it's alright, I guess.  
Enjoy :D

> _ **4.** _

It was new for Tony. A committed relationship. Sure, he had a steady thing going with Pepper for 5 months or so, but they split up pretty soon after the Avengers were formed. She didn’t want to focus her entire life on superheroes and a company, and she needed her own space. Which was understandable. There was a point in Tony’s life where Pepper was what he needed – he needed to be more realistic and he needed to rearrange the party-and-sex lifestyle. She’d needed someone she could love and protect. He needed someone that protected him from himself – Tony Stark.

Pepper fulfilled that. He’d been in love with her at one point, and she loved him at one point too. But she realized after Steve came out from the ice and the superhero gig started that Tony was _so _much stronger. He protected himself now, and when he couldn’t, a certain blond supersoldier was there for him. She knew that she didn’t need him anymore and he didn’t need her. Pepper and Tony didn’t have a breakup that went haywire or involved a lot of tears – they knew that being in love and being together wasn’t what they were looking for within each other. They fell out of love – they fell gracefully, and they caught each other.

They weren’t lovers, nor were they tentative colleagues. They were a rock the other could land on whenever they fell, and they were soothing voices that comforted in the morning. They were friends.

But what he had with Steve wasn’t something both parties knew would end. They knew they weren’t together because it was what they needed right then. They wanted; they wanted to be together, to see the other’s smile the first thing in the morning, and to be the lips that kissed tears away. This was their turning point in finding love. Tony had Pepper and Steve had Peggy.

But they now had each other. And there was nothing else they needed or wanted.

The beginning of a relationship that was sweet whispers in the night and flowers at the doorstep was a new stranger for Tony. He loved it. He loved being _able _to love. And he could just hope Steve loved it – loved him – too.

Steve was new to this too. He was new to murmurs against his neck and loving hands running through his hair. He was new to chaste kisses softly planted on his lips and coffee brown eyes that had happiness blooming whenever it landed on him. He was new to loving and being loved.

When it was 1940, and there was a _war _and you could die any day, relationships weren’t slow paced. Peggy had been all hurried quickies and missed dates because of training or an attack. Taking it slow, _feeling _the tremors of his heart whenever Tony’s skin trailed along his, it was all so new and _so breathtakingly addictive_. Every time Tony fondly rolled his eyes at Steve’s frustration with the internet or had the spark of genius in his eyes inside the lab Steve could feel himself falling deeper and deeper in love with the man – it was all he could do to not positively plummet.

They didn’t tell the team, but they didn’t need to. The morning after the first time they had sex – third date – Clint winked and gave them a thumbs up over his cereal while Natasha muttered a ‘fucking finally’ under her breath. Thor simply slapped Tony’s back in a congratulating way and Bruce resolutely looked at the ceiling while smiling. It was then that Tony realized he had entered with a necklace of hickeys exposed on his neck and Steve’s infamous ‘Iron Man is a fan of Captain America, change my mind.’ homemade hoodie draped across him. Steve trudged in not too later with a head of very obvious sex-tousled hair and a suspicious face that didn’t stop blushing to the very roots of his hair when Thor boomed, ever-oblivious to Midgardian subtlety, ‘Merry cheers on engaging in vigorous male coitus, my friend!’

So much for keeping it low-key.

It had been two weeks since they went on their first date (it was brunch at a homey diner both Steve and Tony frequented together before), when Tony had to stay in his lab a bit longer than usual to fix a gauntlet that was chipped during a particularly ferocious battle with ten foot cat-robots. Steve was in Tony’s – no, _their – _room, working on all the paperwork he’d pushed to the side (something Fury was still shocked about).

Amidst the soothing cold of the lab and the absence of coffee – he’d finished his daily two-litre limit set by Steve – Tony’s figure drooped onto the desk as the screwdriver rolled towards the edge of the desk. And just like that, he was asleep.

\------

_The shattered shards of glass were strewn across the floor, an amber liquid dripping from the edges and wetting the hardwood. A hardened hand reached out to grab the cuff of the quivering kid who had backed himself into the corner of the office, ignoring the child’s whimpering sobs and beaten attempts of trying to escape the firm grasp. Another hand wrapped itself tightly around the thick, black ringlets that had been disheveled on his head, firmly tugging it. A gasp of pain left his lips before he could swallow it, and the man tightened his grip._

_Tony winced – he shouldn’t have dissented. Howard set him down to the floor, crouching down to pick up a shard of broken glass. He used his sleeve to wipe off the whiskey, harshly pulling Tony closer by his wrist. Tony tried to stifle a sob as the glass slowly ripped into his delicate, purple and blue skin. The bruised surface easily slit open the fleshy part of his arm. The crimson clumps horrifically tinted the clear shard, enrapturing Tony in all of its ghastly beauty. He distracted himself with the way it traced along the edges of ripped skin, inching the glistening point slowly into the openings. His daddy never came dangerously close; he never caught a vein or an artery. Tony hated the pain and the blood, but he trusted his daddy – his daddy never hurt him to the point where it was fatal. Just enough that it hurt._

_A hoarse voice, dry with vodka, stung Tony’s ears, ‘Thought you could run, boy? Thought I’d let you escape after you messed up my new circuit boards?’_

_Tony tried to whisper that wasn’t his intention – he wanted to help daddy. But his voice failed him. The shard went deeper into his skin, eliciting a cry. Blood stained the wool carpet, a few droplets catching on Tony’s toes and painting it scarlet._

_The door flew open, and the sound of heels echoed around the office. A stout, comforting figure yanked the bloodied shard out of Howard’s hands and threw it across the floor, marking her own fingertips in Tony’s blood. _ _The stained hand threw a stinging slap across Howard’s cheek as Tony inched behind her legs, trembling fingers clutching her skirt. She shouted harshly in a cold voice that was unfamiliar to Tony, who had always seen her as an archetype of warmth and love, ‘You utter asshole! You-you pig! Do you think Steve would have appreciated what you do to your child? He’s your fucking son, you brute!’_

_He wiped his injured arm on his white shirt, trying to get the red liquid to come off. As Howard started hissing a string of cusses, Aunt Peg turned to Tony and lifted him in her inviting arms, a loving smile etching itself on her pretty face. Tony thought the lips looked like his arm, and wondered whether Daddy had cut her too. He gasped, touching the lip to confirm whether it was blood. Aunt Peg laughed, nuzzling into his fingers and stepping outside of the office._

_\------_

Cold. It was all he felt. The cold bit his skin and tried to claw in, just like the cold shards he was so used to. It surged through his body and left him feeling lifeless. Blood. The warm, crimson droplets swirled in his frantic mind. The metallic ghost of blood in his mouth left a bitter taste in his soul and made him want to chop off his tongue. He snapped his eyes open when warm fingertips brushed across his skin, a convivial contrast to the cold it was entertaining mere seconds ago.

‘Tony? Babe?’

The honey-like voice felt like silk against his ears after the rough voice that had engraved itself into his memories. Golden locks swam into Tony’s hazy vision as he reached out, desperate to feel them entangled between his skin again. Steve’s body was radiating heat even in the subzero temperatures of his lab, and Tony _needed _to curl up into his tempting warmth. He grunted, trying to find his way up the desk. Steve rubbed circles into Tony’s back, hands sliding up his loose shirt.

In normal circumstances, the skin-on-skin would have Tony grinding against Steve in a millisecond, but right now all he wanted was to absorb the exquisite heat. He leaned into the touch, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips before he could catch it. Steve nuzzled his head into the crook of Tony’s neck, gently lifting him up. Tony’s hands automatically wrapped around his shoulders and his legs went around his waist, slotting in perfectly.

Steve got into the elevator, still rubbing circles into Tony’s back, ‘Our floor, Jarvis.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Came the reply, and was that a hint approval in the AI’s voice? Steve was very well aware of how protective Tony’s bots and AI’s were of the engineer, and it was extremely hard to contain his pleased beam at Jarvis’s apparent sanction.

As Steve trudged into the room, gently laying Tony on their bed and lifting the covers to get underneath them, he murmured soothingly, ‘Relax, honey. I’m here. I’ll always be here.’ Tony shuffled closer to the voce, letting Steve wrap his arms around him and pull him against his chest. As he drifted off into a dreamless sleep, all he could think off was the breaths against his hair and the arms around his waist. All he could think of was Steve.

A drowsy mumble left Tony as he finally fell into slumber, ‘I love you, Steve.’

Steve froze, eyes following the way the blue of Tony’s arc reactor lit up Steve’s chest. He looked at the peaceful figure beside him, hair ruffled and arms loosely hanging on top of Steve. Maybe it isn’t as hard as he had first thought. Sure, emotions are involved, and unlike supervillains, his muscles won’t do him any good here. Steve knew just from one look at Tony, sleeping idly next to him. He knew he was right where he was supposed to be.

‘I love you too.’

\------

The next morning, everything hit Tony like a specially-designed S.I truck.

Tony had told Steve he loved him. He said the L-word. The last thing he remembered were the arms around him stilting, and then he faded off. And now the spot in his bed next to him was empty? He looked for the god-awful analog alarm clock Steve insisted on buying, and felt as though a cold hand reached into his ribs and tore out the heart form inside. It was 10 AM, already 4 hours after 6. Steve’s morning runs normally ended by then.

There was only one possible answer.

Tony had gone and screwed up the only good thing in his life (sure, the Avenger, iron Man, blah blah, but nothing was Steve Rogers), like he always did. Why did he have to say he _loved _Steve? Sure, he did, but liked was good. Liked. He liked Steve. That would have been easier for the supersoldier to process. Damn all the love bugs that infected him in his sleep. Muttering curses along that line under his breath, he pushed off the sheets and stumbled out of bed. If Steve wasn’t there, he could drink two litres of coffee now, right?

Wrong.

When Tony made his way into the communal kitchen, he was greeted by a beautiful sight that he was pretty sure was Steve’s way of making Tony feel pain. He did all he could to stop the blood rushing south as he saw a side profile of Steve frying bacon in _nothing but his boxers and an Iron Man apron. _Tony gulped, all but stumbling to his chair. He leaned over the counter, coffee forgotten, ‘H-hi.’

Steve looked up, a smile that would have swept Tony off his feet had he not been sitting down bracing his features, ‘Hi.’ He put the bacon on a tissue-lined paper, taking one in his hands and eating it. Tony’s eyes traced all the ridges of muscles along Steve’s arms, eating up the way the muscles tensed and relaxed with each small movement he made. The tiny apron just about covered Steve’s burly torso, half his toned chest exposed. If this sight was in front of him every morning, breakfast wouldn’t be a necessity.

Boy, he was going to miss Steve.

Apparently, he’d said the last part out loud (classic Tony), because Steve’s perfect cupid-bow lips had a confused pout imprinted on it, ‘What do you mean? I’ve got no new missions, and you don’t have any meetings today either.’

Alright, Tony was positive Steve was instigating him at this point. Which wasn’t fair. He didn’t take Steve to be the type that put salt on the wound. But Tony’s nonchalance was his best weapon, and he had a killer fake mask; the pain he’s feeling right now doesn’t need to be known to the world, or to Steve.

Putting on the best public persona he could muster now, Tony took on an easy tone, ‘Oh, y’know Cap, the break-the break up.’ Shit. He’d stumbled on his words and choked on it. There goes the nonchalance.

Steve’s smile faded from his face in an instant, confused gloom taking its place, ‘W-what?’ Tony couldn’t be serious, right? He’s pulling his leg. Definitely. But he didn’t have his coffee yet, and it wasn’t like Tony to crack mean jokes out of the blue. Not his sweet, loving Tony. Tony couldn’t be breaking up with him now, ‘T-tony, you said you loved me.’

‘Exactly.’

Okay, he was beyond confused. What the fuck is Tony going on about now? Steve proceeded to eloquently reply, ‘The fuck?’

Tony looked at him strangely, ‘You-you’re not breaking up with me?’

_That _was a surprise. Did Tony honestly think Steve was breaking up with him? Steve needed to increase his boyfriend’s coffee limit if limited intake took him here.

‘_No, _you absolute dumbass. I love you too.’

Tony’s face lit up in an impossibly adorable way that should be illegal. Steve leaned across the counter, cradling Tony’s jaw. ‘You idiot,’ he murmured ‘how could I not?’

'Well I-mmph!'

Tony’s reply was an incoherent mumble that was soon drowned out by Steve’s soft lips on his. Tony made a tiny sound the moment their lips met, and Steve felt the man’s long eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks when he tilted his head for better access. He’s no poet, really, but all the unsaid words were uttered in the single kiss. It was perfect, and it was just so _Steve and Tony. _Tony was yielding in his arms. His tongue came out of his own accord to brush against the inside of Tony’s lower lip. He pushed the kiss deeper, wrapping his arms around the small of Tony’s back-

‘I feel like I just interrupted a moment.’

The two sprang away from each other’s embrace, Steve stumbling against the refrigerator and Tony staggering back to his chair. Saliva still glistened on his lips as Tony licked them, capturing it. Steve drowned out the sound of want that threatened to come out the back of his throat; did Tony have any_ idea _what these small things did to him? Tony caught his eye and carefully darted the sinful tongue out again, this time slowly moving across the plump expanse surrounding it. Oh, he _did _know what he did to him. Cool. He was totally not thinking of pinning Tony to the kitchen wall and following up Tony’s ‘fucking into a wall’ suggestion.

‘Earth to Steve!’ Clint stood by the opened grill of a vent, smirking, ‘Welly well well, if it isn’t the love birds.’

Tony grumbled something under his breath, going around the counter and towards Steve. Before Clint could manage any other enraging one-liners, Tony grabbed Steve by his wrist and began dragging him towards the elevator. Steve suppressed a grin as Clint’s voice rang over the ding of the elevator, ‘Have fun with your sex!’

It was going to be an interesting morning, if Tony’s lust-hungry face was anything to go by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Everyone, please out your attention here! I plan on making the next chapter a bit longer than usual, so it may take more time. I'll probably have it done by the next few days, but I'd like to take my time with it! Anyways, I apologise in advance, happy Stony-ing!!


	5. Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH GOD IT'S BEEN LIKE TWO MONTHS I'M SO SORRY

> ** _5._ **

It’s not like he did anything wrong. He calculated all the outcomes before he took the leap. Sure – hounding off the missile was a near brush with death, but complications happen all the time. Especially when you’re an Avenger; there’re almost always a dozen octopus-like green aliens out to simultaneously kill them. Honestly, Tony still doesn’t know why said octopuses haven’t joined forces yet or something. It would be much easier for both sides than having to ward off each of them _every fucking Saturday. _

But the risk - there was no reason to say he took it recklessly. Tony Stark was a lot of things – he was a sinfully mischievous scoundrel, he was a board-meeting-ignoring, laid-back businessman; hell, he’s probably the biggest asshole in any room that doesn’t have Justin Hammer in it – but he isn’t someone who would risk thousands of lives to steer a missile away. Despite what Fury was blowing his top about, Tony didn't have a hero complex. He ran all the possibilities through Jarvis in the few seconds he had, and the path he took was the one with the lowest death rate.

And no one died either. Sure, Tony was pretty sure his ribcages were now scattered popsicle sticks inside his body, and the blood that was still dripping profusely onto the floor of the Helicarrier medical station was a far cry from ‘just a few cat scratches’, but really, when you took a bomb to the body, this was basically leaping out with a backflip and a gleaming smile. And he _did_ try to do that at first – he would have succeeded too if Steve hadn’t scooped him up and started to carry the engineer to their waiting Helicarrier.

The mission had been a close call, but Tony wasn’t one to admit that to anyone. Much less himself. Or Steve. But he had no choice in what he had done. The building that the projectile had been approaching was milling with confused schoolkids. His armor took the brunt, so he wasn’t even regretful – he’d been meaning to build another model for a while now anyway.

A disappointed resignation in the person who spoke next shook Tony out of his thoughts and cut him deeper than he would like to admit, ‘Iron Man, I’m speaking as your captain here. You can’t jump in font of any flying rocket that threatens civilians. Thor’s _immortal. _His post was right by the building, and he was flying towards it. Why is it always you that tries to play hero?’

“Play hero.” That’s what Steve – no, _Captain Rogers_ – thought he was doing? Satisfying some daddy-issue-fueled need to be noticed? It set a firecracker inside Tony, and he would have landed a fist to Stripes-and-Stars if this was back in 2012, but he isn’t brazen, boyfriend-hitting asshole. He’s an asshole, yeah, but not on that level. However, two can play the game Steve was beginning.

‘Play hero? Listen here, _Rogers,_’ he put on a sickly sweet smile that was painfully fake - he was fairly sure the others didn’t miss the grimace that had melted into his face and snapped away in what he hoped was a split second, ‘it ain’t my fault you were too busy to notice me asking over comms. I had less than five seconds to make the decision, and you should have listened and given me a clear answer. I ran over _seventy three_ calculations, this was the one with least casualties. No one got injured.’ Satisfied at his structured comeback, Tony leaned back to focus on the set jaw on Steve and the way his blue eyes now had resolute gray clouding over the hue. It would have been hot if it wasn’t absolutely infuriating.

‘_You _got injured.’

Tony waved his hand vaguely, murmuring a, ‘Details, details.’ He mentally winced; he should _not _have been moving his hand so fast. Steve almost leaned in to rub his shoulder. _Almost._

Clint cleared his throat, not the only one uncomfortable in the tense atmosphere, ‘Moving on, you two can have your little lover’s quarrel later. We need to finish up the briefing because it has been over two hours since I last had food.’

Fury spared a glance at Steve’s general direction, ‘Don’t put off responding to teammates over the comms, Rogers,’ he turned to twitch his face at Tony, ‘and don’t be so reckless in the field, Stark. We can’t have a compromised Avenger. And _both _you fuckers better get your shit sorted out because your little sexual-tension scenes and squabbles seriously tick me off when we should be having a professional meeting, and it throws the team off balance.’

Tony muttered a, ‘won’t be a problem.’ under his breath, looking starkly at Steve. Why would he, of all godforsaken idiots, assume Tony just wanted the center stage? Sure – Steve probably didn’t mean it _(did he?),_ but it sure as hell stung. He spared a glance at his vibrating phone. Pepper was sending him a seemingly unending stream of messages after he’d deliberately ignored her four missed calls. As expected, she was reprimanding his brutish recklessness. Seriously, could he not catch a break? He was loosely aware of the shoulder nudging him, but seeing as he was next to Thor, it was probably protruding, undiscovered muscles on the god’s arm that unintentionally brushed against him.

The thunder deity in question had started to be less subtle now, almost pushing Tony off his chair at another attempt to shake the engineer out of his train of thoughts.

‘Man of Iron, mighty brethren! I require your attention,’ Thor boomed, snapping Tony out of his stupor. The others had started to take their leave now, Steve reluctant, but still with one foot out the door. He intensely stared at Tony, who – being the masochist he is – couldn’t help but reply with a silent, blank stare. Tony brought his eyes towards the keen figure of muscle and royalty patiently sitting by him, rasping with a throat that had not braced water for more than six hours, ‘What’s up, big guy?’

Thor changed his demeanor, aura emanating a sincere sort of seriousness, ‘Tony Howardson-’

‘It’s Stark, bud.’

‘Yes, yes. You must know what I am about to tell you.’

Tony leaned forward, trying for a teasing smile, ‘Secrets of the multiverse? I appreciate the thought, Thor, but I don’t think I can do any more processing when I’m,’ he gestured towards the half-broken armor hanging off his torso, ‘like this.’

Thor smiled unobtrusively, not bothering to hide his chuckle, ‘You are of the funnier Midgardians, Tony. However, I need to tell you that I do not blame you in the least for what happened today. I admit, I was close, but you handled the situation admirably. Do not be so hard on yourself, brother. I think you a true hero.’

Tony ducked his head, trying to hide the fond smile tugging at his lips. He mumbled out, ‘Ah, see Thor, I’m not blaming myself.’

He looked up in time to see a flicker of awareness glimmering over Thor’s thunder-blue eyes for a fraction of a second – a spark so perceptive, it scared Tony. It had just then registered that he was talking to a fucking _god. _A golden-retriever-esque, jovial, eerily quiet about his knowledge _god. _‘I can see whom you fault, brother Tony.’

Tony’s voice faltered, ‘I-I know, bud. Thank you.’

Thor clapped his shoulder gently, ‘And brother Steve does not blame you either, Tony. He is merely worried.’

Tony bit the inside of his cheek, ‘I’ll be the judge of that.’ Thor was about to reply, but went against it, instead choosing to nod and drop another small smile before heading out the door to bask in the sunlight or condition his hair or whatever blonde and muscular Norse Gods did in their free time.

Tony groaned quietly, trying to get up. He managed to get to about five steps before a whir of scarlet hair and black Kevlar strided in, holding him up with no comment or elaboration. Tony quirked his eyebrow, to which Natasha shrugged, letting his weight lean onto her. Tony smiled gently – it was one of those rare moments where he could see Natasha cared. As they walked out the door, Tony overheard a pair of voices from the next room, one of them belonging to his resident apple-cobbler-like supersoldier.

‘I-I _know _he did it because he was trying to look out for everyone else, but why the fuck is he always so self-sacrificial? He may as well fly into a rip in the universe to buy us a can of soda!’

‘Brother Steve, he was just trying to save-’

‘_Thor, I’m not sure I can handle him going out and getting himself killed every chance he gets!’_

Ah, so Thor had gone to Steve. And his boyfriend had just established that Tony was too much pressure for him. No biggie. His hunch was right after all, and he wrecked everything good he touched, and he would die alone, probably stuck in outer space and-

‘C’mon Tony. Let’s get you back to the tower, and we can drown our weight in cold beers and hot pizzas.’ Clint slung his arm lightly around Tony’s shoulders, trying to nudge him away from the open doors of the other meeting room, ‘We’re already here. Let’s go downstairs, yeah?’

When Tony didn’t move, Natasha gently eased him away. They walked to the landing pad on the roof, Tony ever-so-slightly leaning on Clint. If his vocal chords were working, he would have most definitely started letting out pitiful sobs by now – it was a matter of time before Steve found him and broke the news to him.

_Wait. That’s it! _Steve can’t break up with him if he doesn’t find him.

Tony decided he would simply have to hide from Steve from now on. There can’t be a result for an equation that never existed in the first place, after all. Tony made a half-assed excuse and shook off the others, preparing himself to spend the rest of his life inside his lab. He could operate the suit from there with JARVIS, so he could still be an Avenger. He could ask JARVIS to use the elevator to send all the Avengers’ updated tech. He could use video calls on his laptop for the more important meetings, so he could still work in SI. He could do this.

‘Lockdown mode on the lab, JARVIS. If you accept any access code or override code that _I _didn’t enter, and it isn’t Loki mating with Dr.Doom and M.O.D.O.K to make mega-god-villains who are floating heads, I _will _delete you. Not kidding.’

‘Yes, sir.’

\------

_Sunset Bain. She was a beam of light, bright and colorful. Tony wasn’t sure he’d ever felt that pit-a-pat of his heart before. The first time she giggled over a joke he said and leaned over to squeeze his arm, he felt his stomach turn upside down. The first time her dainty fingers brushed across his hair, he could feel electricity coursing through the skin. The first time she placed her sweet lips on his, he was sure that she was the one. He loved her, and for the first time since he had his childhood ripped apart by his family, he felt complete._

_Tony trusted her more than he trusted Dum-E. He fell for her hard, and he thought he wouldn’t ever have to pick himself up because she was right there next to him. And for a month or two, he supposed he could get used to it. For Tony, it wasn’t a simple drive-by, but he didn’t want it to be. He knew he should have been more scared of how deeply he cared, but he found himself too distracted by the sweeping locks of her golden hair and the saccharine whispers lulling him at night. _

_But he was young, he was innocent, and he was in love. He was too drunk in her hazel eyes to notice and read too hard when he saw her smiling with her friends and realized how it would reach her glittering eyes, but with him it missed the mark – he brushed it off quickly, discarding the unthinkable. Sunset was probably tired sometimes. People get tired. _

_Then he started noticing more things. How she would roll her eyes and look away when he started talking about his robotics with the air of enthusiasm he saved for her. How she would keep on bringing up his dad’s company. How she would ask every other day whether SI had anything new. How she would victimize herself any chance she got._

_How he overheard her talking one night in the next room on her phone, mouth working to spit out everything he’d said to her about the company. The codes, projects, ideas. Everything. He heard her say, ‘I’ll get more out of him, daddy, as long as he doesn’t figure it out and leave or something.' and he didn't leave. He needed her too much._

_After that night, it didn’t seem unusual anymore when she insisted on letting him rant about his dad’s company, and when she stopped listening after he began to talk about what happened in the mansion, and not the company. When she stopped sleeping next to him. When she would only come over to his dorm room with a pack of condoms and leave within the next two hours more ruffled. When she stopped calling him ‘Tones’ and went back to ‘Stark’. _

_When he’d been drained of everything he had to give and she kept on taking. She was a lethal dagger, and he had plunged the blade into his heart with his own hands._

_Even after she’d openly exposed everything from SI to her dad, and started going out with that other rich student, he always circled back to her. He relished in the nails scratching his back every night, and the scars it left behind. He drank in the way she would moan – how it was the only sound he ever got from her that wasn’t ‘Meet me in an hour, Stark. My bed.’ He savored the bruises on his hips, too sozzled on the twisted attention to care. _

_He didn’t care about being used – used in the wrong way. He needed her; he needed the blood, the pain, the tug of his heart, the drained love and the blooming wounds. She was toxic, and he drank poison from her holy grail like a thirsty traveler lost in the desert._

_\------_

It had been a day since the incident at the Helicarrier, and Steve was starting to get worried. When he had come back down to the Tower with Thor, he didn’t see Tony anywhere. The only other Avenger he’d spotted all day was Natasha, who had walked out of the kitchen with the last of his favorite frozen yoghurt, pointedly looking at him with cold, razor-sharp eyes and eating it with her knife. If looks could kill, they would be carving his epitaph.

He didn’t mean to hurt Tony. He honestly didn’t even know half of what he had been saying at the time, but he knew he didn’t mean it. It was post-battle adrenaline intermingled with infinite, badly contained concern for his boyfriend. When he saw the missile inches away from blowing apart the one thing he loved, he’d felt his lungs stop working to let him breathe properly. It had suddenly been too warm and too cold and the bottom of his heart dropped, and he’d just – he’d shattered apart. And he’d told Thor as such.

The second he’d stepped out of the shower, however, he realized a moment too late snapping was a mistake. He had almost cried when JARVIS told him Tony had locked the lab. JARVIS _did _sound remorseful about it, so Steve had the small comfort of knowing a part of Tony’s conscience, computerized as it may be, knew he was just too worried.

He was mulling over all of this for the fiftieth time that day, eating leftover lasagna from last night with Bruce. Bruce was closest to Tony, from all the Avengers, no doubt. But as his friend, Bruce was also aware of the fact that both parties had reacted too much, and it was because both were too scared of their love for each other. So the scientist had joined Steve for dinner, a comforting silence in the stormy frustration boiling over in their captain’s mind.

And then it happened.

The living room turned into a shade of red as the assemble-alarm there lit up. Steve immediately got up, the foil bowl of lasagna and his spork clattering to the floor. He was ready for another mission - the perfect opportunity to distract himself. But the alarm wasn’t sounding, only shining its rosy rays onto the room.

Steve stood, confused for a second, before JARVIS’s pressing voice rang around, ‘Initiating the Pepper Protocol, code nightmare. Captain, your assistance is urgently required in Sir’s lab.’

‘What’s the Pepper Protocol? Code nightmare…?’

If JARVIS had the ability to exasperatedly sigh, Steve was sure he would have done that. Nevertheless, the AI replied, ‘When Miss Potts and Sir went their ways, she initiated a protocol with certain codes relating to Sir and the more…common ways he damages himself. It is meant to alert the person she appoints for the time, so they can protect Sir. Now, you are that person. Miss Potts has various codes in the Pepper Protocol, and I would be happy to guide you through each one for the benefit of future incidents involving Sir, but I must implore you to get to the workshop as quick as possible because your aid is needed. ‘

Steve didn’t need to be told twice to bolt towards the stairwell, steadfastly ignoring Bruce’s sigh of ‘Elevator, Steve...' – he could get there faster on foot.

He found Tony there, curled up into himself. He was asleep on the sofa, precariously hanging on the edge. Steve hurried over to Tony’s side, wringing his hands together in anxiety.

\------

Tony could still feel the ghost of her touch skirting over his skin, searing and freezing at the same time. He could feel the burning gasps threatening to tear down his throat at the memory of her fingertips dancing on his chest and the edges of her hand digging into his hips. He could hear the sound of her venomous chortle and her ‘Please, you thought I could ever love a _Stark? _Disgusting.’ He could smell the strawberry shampoo of her honey-like hair and he could taste the shadow of her skin on his tongue. The whisper of hazelnut eyes and tanned skin swayed in his vision, tarred by the hazy blue of his laboratory lights.

Through the burning tears tumbling down, everything he saw resembled blotted ink bleeding into a strange canvas that didn’t agree with the lambently sugary giggles waning in and out of his ears.

A flurry of soft, platinum hair and pale skin arrived, kneeling down beside him. Tony blinked, confused, before backing himself into the couch. Her hair and skin seemed lighter than before, but it was the only explanation.

‘S-sunset. Please…I-uh-I can’t. Not anymore.’

Then his eyes floated up to meet two confused circles of vibrant, electric cobalt pooling around endless black. Sunset – she didn’t have those eyes. 

Tony’s mind felt muddled, groggily chaotic. He felt a deep voice grounding him, and he let his entire being latch onto the soothing sound as he breathed. Sunset’s giggles still rang in his mind, but it was slowly dissolved by the person carding his hand through the raven mop of curls on Tony’s head. He sighed, trying to breathe how the man in front of him told him to. _In and out. I’m here. I love you. In and out. I’m here, and I always will be. I love you, and I always will. _Tony closed his eyes, scrunching up his face to try and remember why he remembered the face, the voice, and those eyes.

_Steve._

His eyes shot up. Wasn’t he supposed to hide away so they didn’t break up? How did Steve get here? Why was he crying? Why was _Steve _crying? _Oh, he was so going to install a virus into JARVIS._

He felt a watery, rumbling laugh vibrate his body before he heard it, and he realized he was pressed up against Steve’s chest. He grumbled, ‘Am I thinkin’ out loud again?’ He felt what he supposed was a nod above his head, ‘Break up with me later. I’m too sleepy to,’ a yawn interrupted him, ‘accept it.’

Steve used a finger to tilt up Tony’s face and made his protesting eyes meet his, ‘I meant it when I said I’ll always love you and I’ll always be there. I’m sorry about what happened today, I wasn’t thinking straight. I now realize how much I screwed up because I never wanted you to think I’d _leave _you. And I can only hope you won’t leave _me _now, because frankly, I have been a fucking asshole, and I’d like it if mmmphft-’

Tony was kissing him. It was a warm, messy mash of tongue and tears and lips and clacking teeth, and it was _perfect._

‘I love you. So much.’

Steve smiled into the kiss, letting themselves melt into each other. If Tony was going to go out of a rift in the universe to get him a can of soda, he’d swim to the depths of the ocean to buy Tony a slice of pizza.

‘Not sure how that would work out, but okay.’

‘Thinking out loud is evidence of you rubbing off on me.’

Tony laughed softly, and opened his big, beautiful, caramel eyes, and it was the only thing in the entire universe that could enthrall Steve the way it did, and he’d freeze himself for another 70 years if he got to stare at those eyes for the rest of his life.

‘Thank you.’

‘Oh shut up.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! This marks the end of Tony's nightmares, and he hopefully will get some happy happy fluff next chapter :)


	6. Epilogue (A Dream)

> _...And the one time he had a dream-turned-reality_

_He moaned louder, letting the pleasure overtake his senses. The muscular blonde behind him let out deep, rumbling grunts as he pushed inside relentlessly, fucking Tony with careless abandon. Under the man, Tony felt small and like a toy. He loved it thoroughly._

_He looked over his shoulder. Captain America was having sex with him, and he was enjoying it. When he’d seen the tattoo of his shield and his service number neatly printed as a tramp stamp, the animalistic growl was a foreshadowing warning for how hard he would go. Tony was relishing every second of it, as though it would be snatched from him any second._

_He was close. He could feel it. Rogers was close too, if the faster, less rhythmic and more frantic thumping was anything to go by. The both of them were getting desperate for release, and then Tony clenched, and a white-hot flash seared, and Rogers groaned deafeningly, and-_

_\------_

‘Wake up, Tones. You’re wearing quite the…obvious morning tent and I’m pretty uncomfortable. We have an exam today, and I don’t want you fantasizing about Captain fucking America doing extremely sinful things to your backside while you calculate the hypotenuses of seventy triangles for some reason when all you gotta do is just create a sequence for an accounting robot, which, by the way, requires no triangles, and you have an insane way of-’

‘Shut up Rhodey.’

‘Sorry, I just think the paragon of virtue for our country should not be the object of your horniness. Especially when you’re just sixteen.’

‘You’re just,’ he let out a large yawn, ‘jealous Cap’n ain’t in _your _dreams.’

‘Yep, that’s it.’

‘Mhm…’

‘TONY, ARE YOU SERIOUSLY MASTURBATING WHILE- you know what? Forget this, I’m just gonna go study in the cafeteria.’

‘Yeah you will.’

‘I’m not even sure whether that was meant for me or Steve Rogers.’

‘Go ‘way Rhodey.’

\------

** _ \- Twenty five years later - _ **

The two of them were pressed up against each other, skin sweaty and sticky, pleasure sated and satisfied. Tony happily sighed against Steve’s chest as he ran a hand across his boyfriend’s back. This was the first time Tony had acquiesced to showing Steve the tattoo (he had been using the most expensive, top-class concealer to cover it up). It was safe to say Steve reacted well. If he knew a tramp stamp would turn on the blonde so much, he’d have showed him much earlier, and – oh.

Tony laughed into Steve’s chest, gleefully elated. He was _so _going to tell Rhodey all about this.

‘_Hey! _Why’re you laughing? I wasn’t that bad…’

‘My honey, the Capsicle of my eye, no. You were great! I just-’ and the he exploded again in a fit of giggles.

Steve pouted petulantly, put out. Tony patted the supersoldier’s rock of a chest and contemplated making up a disease about laughing after engaging in particularly passionate coitus, but that wouldn’t work – they had intense sex before. He let out another wheeze, deciding for the whole truth.

‘I can predict the future. Well, my horny dreams can.’

‘_What?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand done! Hope you all enjoyed :)


End file.
